Normal
by Sakura the Cookie Monster
Summary: Mamoru's POV. Follow-up to "House of the Rising Sun".


TITLE: Normal  
  
AUTHOR: By Sakura the Cookie Monster  
  
RATING: PG  
  
DISCLAIMER: The standard disclaimers that you see in every other SM fic apply. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
I was only sixteen and had just left the orphanage about a few days ago, when I got a job. It was so barren at the time. No books, pictures or anything. It was just a couch, a small T.V, a table, and a single bed. Then one day, a delivery guy came with this box and a letter.  
"Mamoru Chiba?"  
"Hai?"  
"Sign here, please," he said, holding up a clipboard.  
Once I signed it and brought the package inside, I placed it on my bed and decided to open the letter first. I thought it was from the orphanage staff, wishing me luck and that the box was just full of some stuff that I'd left behind there. Instead, it was something else.  
It was a letter written to me from my father. The father that I lost memory of when I woke up in the hospital. The father that I lost in a car crash that killed my parents instantly. It was dated a few days before the car crash.  
  
July 31, 1981  
Dear Mamoru,  
  
I don't know how to start this letter off  
nor how to end it. I am most likely already  
gone, and you are possibly old enough to live  
on your own. I'm writing this now, looking at  
you, sleeping in your room, with Sano at the  
foot of your bed. You see, I know you will  
lose your memory of me, your mother, and of  
yourself when you were younger. So, I left  
this letter and the contents inside the box  
in the care of my sister, your Aunt Sonomi.  
I just hope that she sends it to you and that  
it reaches you safely. I hope the mementos  
inside will help comfort you in times of  
loneliness.  
  
Oh, Mamoru, you were such a happy child,  
filled with life and joy. You were always  
hyper and you loved to make friends, even  
though you didn't have that many. I can tell  
already that you're going to grow up to be  
a great man. I remember the day you were born.  
  
Your mother's water broke just after the  
bride and groom kissed and were officially  
married. Kenji had to drive like a madman  
to get us to the hospital on time. I didn't  
go into the delivery room; for fear that I  
would faint in the middle of it. Instead,  
I was content to eating dog biscuits (I ate  
them to help me quit on smoking cigarettes)  
and pacing around the waiting room, driving  
Kenji and the nurses crazy. But, when we  
were called in to the delivery room. I  
couldn't believe my eyes.  
  
There you were, in your mother's arms,  
sleeping like an angel. God really must've  
spent a little more time on you (Feel free  
to laugh when a song with that title comes  
out.) because you were a miracle in a bundle.  
Nothing could take away the feeling I had  
when I first held you in my arms. You looked  
so fragile and delicate. Who would've thought  
at that time that a tiny, little thing like  
you would save so many lives in the future?  
  
Now, we're moving on to another thing here.  
You see, I have visions of the future and  
they're frighteningly accurate. And, that  
throughout my whole life, I've been living  
on borrowed time. I never told anyone this  
before, but I nearly died in the delivery  
room when I was born. Since then, death has  
been breathing down my neck my whole life,  
just waiting for a chance to send me into the  
afterlife. And for the thirty-two years of  
life that I've lived, I've fought death and  
avoided it for so long. And well, in a few  
days, I'll stop running away from death and  
embrace it when the car crashes and flies  
off the road. I'll finally go gentle into  
that good night.  
  
But, let's not talk about the inevitable.  
  
I remember the day when your grandma first  
saw you. You were only a year old and had  
just recently learned how to walk. Your  
grandma had come to visit us while she was  
in town and wanted to see you for the first  
time. You were chasing after a ball, trying  
to catch up with it. And she was there,  
watching you in your efforts to get the ball.  
You always did love your grandmother. She  
would always tell you fairytales about  
princes in far-off lands, knights in shining  
armor, and other sorts of things. You know,  
you have your grandma's blue eyes. Your mama  
had these brilliant red eyes and pink hair  
that would stand out in the crowd. As for me,  
I had your grandpa's green eyes and your  
grandma's ebony black hair. There should be  
some pictures of us all in the box, including  
pictures of your grandma when she was a nurse  
during World War II. You missed her terribly  
when she died of ovarian cancer.  
  
But, I didn't leave pictures of your grandpa  
in the box. You see, although I named you  
after him, I never loved him. Your grandpa  
was a drunkard that splurged every penny we had  
on sake. He was abusive and violent. He didn't  
care about anyone but himself. It took a lot of  
time for my emotional wounds to heal because of  
him.  
  
And it doesn't help that your mother's side of  
the family disowned her on the spot when they  
found out that she was going to keep you. They  
didn't care that she wanted you. They only cared  
about their reputation and social status. Plus,  
our relationship with each other was frowned  
upon because she was only sixteen and I was  
twenty-seven when you were born. It was a big  
age gap between us. And society would only see  
me as a cradle robber. So, I suppose it's best  
that I didn't leave pictures of them either,  
for your sake.  
  
And then, there's Sano, my puppy. He grew very  
attached to you and always slept on your bed  
every night. He was often greedy and loved my  
dog biscuits. But, the whole family was complete  
with you, your mother, and Sano. I think I left  
some pictures of him in the box also.  
  
This letter is getting too long. I should end it  
right here, but... I still want to write and tell  
you everything that I can. But, the words are  
starting to blur and I'm too tired to continue. I  
hope that you realize that your mother and I have  
always loved you, no matter what. You've made us  
both very proud of you. And know that we'll always  
be there for you, Mamoru Kenshin Chiba. Don't  
cringe about your middle name. Your mother picked  
it out.  
  
With Love,  
  
Your Father,  
Tetsuya Chiba.  
  
As I read the letter, I've never felt so alone and isolated in my entire life. The last time I felt like that, it was when Fiore left when I was younger. I bet he was trying to fit every little word that he wanted to say. He failed on that part. The whole letter was written on two pieces of paper. From what I read, he sounded like a guy that was anxious, but happy. It looked like he was struggling with the fine line between writing the letter as fast as he could and writing it as neat as possible.  
But then, another piece of paper fell out from the envelope. As I slowly unfolded it, I nearly laughed. It was a letter written by my mom. There was still a faint smell of roses on it. She used stationary that had a heart surrounded with roses and it was written in red ink, while my father's letter was in black ink. And my mother had little faces drawn all over. There was no date on this letter, but I assume it  
  
was done around the same time as the other one.  
  
Hi, Hi, Mamoru from the Future!  
  
Your father had this kakkoi idea on making a time  
capsule for you, in case we'd ever leave this world.  
He always loves thinking ahead. And he wants me to  
write down everything I can about you, your family,  
and me. He recently looks so sad, like as though he's  
going to leave this world now. I think that we'll be  
here for a very long time. And, I hope that your  
father would cheer up soon. He has such a beautiful  
smile. And so do you. You have his gorgeous smile  
and killer looks. So many girls are going to cling  
on to you that you won't have any room to breathe.  
Well, just think this in mind: you'll know that she's  
the one when you can't stop thinking about her.  
  
If I knew that the man I'd be stuck in an elevator  
with would be my soul mate, I'd have to laugh. On  
first impression, you'd see him as a man who'd never  
grew up. And he was only twenty-six when I met him.  
And I was a fifteen-year-old teen that was more mature  
than him! Well, anyways, it was love at first sight.  
Despite his immaturity, he was a handsome man that  
made me laugh and had always kept me smiling. And he  
had the most ridiculous ponytail that I've ever seen.  
It was very loose and loose locks of hair framed his  
otherwise boyish features. One minute, he and I were  
arguing about silly things and the next, he and I  
were on the elevator floor, making out. ^______^  
  
Our relationship wasn't perfect, but it was in total  
bliss. It wasn't because we fought a lot. Far from it.  
It was because almost everyone around us didn't  
approve of us. My parents thought that it was shameful  
that I'd want a commoner over one that's in our high-  
class society. And his father... well, his father never  
loved him and saw me as a whore. Only his mother, sister,  
and our closest friends saw us as a great item. Society  
saw us as shameful and improper.  
  
And the last straw to my parents was when they found  
out that I was pregnant with you. They gave me an  
ultimatum: Either get an abortion and dump your father  
or forget coming back. It was a tough choice. I was  
unmarried, a soon-to-be teenage mother, and I haven't  
finished high school. So, I gave up my dream to be a  
lawyer. And I haven't regretted my choice since then.  
  
Your father was so thrilled when he found out I was  
pregnant. His eyes glowed with pride and joy. He was  
so helpful and supportive; it made the choice so much  
easier. My parents were blind to the truth: I was  
happier with him as a future mother than with them as  
some rich girl. Though, he didn't want to get married,  
he still bought us wedding rings and we said the vows  
with only his mother, his sister, and our dear friends.  
Though, it wasn't official, it made me happy. Then again,  
like I said before, he always tried his hardest to make  
me smile. ^________^  
  
And when you were born, you were truly a miracle. I  
wanted to name you Kenshin, but your father insisted  
to name you Mamoru. You were so beautiful. You looked  
so much like your father. And you looked so peaceful,  
so fragile, I was afraid that I'd drop you on your  
head if I moved at all. ^^;;;;;;;;;  
  
But, it was a hassle to get your father to make his  
masters in psychology useful so that he could get a  
job to support us. He wanted to be a full-time father.  
I could understand why. He wanted to prove himself  
that he was better than his father. But once he  
finally got the job, everything went great and that  
he gave you a chance for a childhood without worry.  
  
Kyaaa!!! This letter is getting as long as your  
father's letter. But, I don't mind. I want to keep on  
writing and writing until I cease to know what to  
write about. ^_^  
  
You're such a tenderhearted child, always loving  
everything in sight. I remember when you gave me a  
beautiful wreathe of roses for Mother's Day. You had  
the biggest smile on your face when I wore it all  
day long. And, the day when you scraped your knee  
while trying to climb a sakura tree reminded me that  
the real world was a harsh place for such a tender-  
hearted child. And it broke my heart, knowing that  
innocence like yours could be shattered if something  
terrible happened to you...  
  
Does your father sense that something bad is going to  
happen? I think that I'm starting to get the feeling  
that Tetsuya knows something that I don't. But, I don't  
want to worry. To worry is to hide in fear! And I know  
that you'll grow up to be a man without worry, without  
fear, and still with your tenderhearted personality. I  
hope that the real world doesn't force you to toughen  
your heart and close off your emotions from the world.  
The world needs more honestly open people with their  
emotions. Please always know that we love you,  
unconditionally. Do you know what unconditional love is?  
It's the type of love that never ends, no matter what.  
Not even death can stop that kind of love!  
  
I think I've run out of things to write about. Mamo-chan,  
make your mommy proud of you! I love ya, my tenderhearted  
child! ^_^  
  
Chiharu Ibuki, your kawaii, kakkoi, super-mommy!  
  
P.S. - I made a quilt for you so that when you're in  
college, you can snuggle with it when you're thinking  
of us.  
  
And I stared dumb-founded at the last line. I don't think I can make my mom proud of me. Especially since it's too late. My heart and emotions have already been closed off. I was no longer tenderhearted, as she claimed I once was. Ten years have passed, and I was no longer a child. I was a sixteen-year old man that grew up too fast and felt so much pain that the words I read had hurt. Hurt enough to shatter the walls for a little bit. And I cried. I cried for a long time while I clutched on to my pillow and curled up into a fetal position.  
When I finally calmed down and regained my posture, I went to the kitchen to get a knife so that I could cut the tape off the box. Once that was done, I slowly opened the box. And I see a large photo album, a hand-made quilted blanket, and a wreathe of roses. From mom's letter, this wreathe must be the one that I gave mom for Mother's Day.  
The blanket was gigantic and took up most of the space in the box. It was white, with a motif of red rosebuds. The edges of if was decorated with red ribbons and at each corner, the ribbons were tied in cute, little bows. The blanket smelled of baby powder and roses. And, it felt so soft, too. I wish I could fall asleep with it wrapped around me. It seems that roses will always be a part of my life.  
As I pull the picture album out, it had a beautiful mahogany cover with the words 'Family Album' etched in light gold. I open it and the first thing I see is a black & white picture of a young, cheerful lady in a nurse's uniform. This lady must be my grandma, back in World War II.  
And, as I kept looking through the pictures, I see that my family always had medicine on their minds. And finally, the moment I've been waiting for. I saw a picture of myself, with my parents. Mom was right: The ponytail he had was ridiculous. And his green eyes really did stand out underneath those thick locks of hair. Then, there was my mother with her blinding pink hair in pigtail braids and her ruby red eyes sparkling brightly. And then, there was me. I was wearing a baseball cap backwards, a plain white tank top underneath a red buttoned-down shirt that looked too big on me, and a pair of blue jeans with my feet bare to the world. I was holding on to a small puppy in my somewhat chubby, little arms. That must be Sano. He looked so adorable wagging his tail.  
And as I look at the pictures, the loneliness in my heart increases even greater. For now, I have remains of what could've been a happy family. A family where my kawaii, kakkoi super-mommy would always fuss and worry over me, just to make sure that I was happy and my fun- loving, proud father always giving me sound advice. Whenever I'm at school and I hear other people complain about their parents, it only hurts more. Parents are a luxury that I don't have and they are taking that for granted. Maybe, one day, my dream of having a family of my own will be true. Maybe my memories will come back. And maybe, just maybe, I'll be back to that tenderhearted little boy that I once was and, with effort, could be again.  
And so, after placing the album on my desk and hanging the wreathe on the wall, I snuggle in the quilt and soon fall asleep, dreaming of a life, with them, and Sano. A normal life that I've been denied.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, well, well... we have a follow-up to 'House of the Rising Sun' here. I'd like to thank the first reviewer, Usako3000, for mentioning the idea to me. I just hope that I brought up the same caliber of skill here for this story. 


End file.
